


Pierced and Re-Pierced

by monstersandmagic



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Best Friend Natasha, Flirting, Flustered!Steve, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nat's just doing her best, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Piercings, Pining, Steve has a kink and that kink is Bucky, punk!bucky, they just need to use their words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24905272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monstersandmagic/pseuds/monstersandmagic
Summary: Tony finds a photo of the Winter Soldier at a punk show in the 1980s. Bucky gets a bit inspired by his past self. So he starts getting his old piercings again. And Steve totally didn't think he was into that...but maybe he's kind of into that.Cue a very, very flustered Steve Rogers.---“So what’s wrong Buck?” Steve asked gently.“The 80s,” Bucky said solemnly, a hint of sarcasm present in his tone.“The…80s?” Nat replied, a tiny smirk betraying her slight amusement.“You’re going to have to explain a little more than that Buck,” Steve said, not understanding what Bucky was talking about at all.“Tony may have found out that I was a punk in the 80s.”“Oh holy shit—” Natasha was full on grinning now.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 16
Kudos: 152





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this during Nanowrimo 2019, and then got too nervous to post it. I've never posted a fanfic anywhere before, so I'm super nervous about posting this one. It was one of those stories that I had been searching for, and couldn't find anywhere, so I just decided to write it myself. I hope you all like it :)
> 
> Comments and Kudos are very much appreciated!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony notices old, long healed piercing scars on Bucky's ears and ends up on a hunt for long lost photographic evidence of said piercings.
> 
> Of course he finds the picture. Of course he does.

A large grouping of the Avengers were gathered at the newly rebuilt compound. They were spread around throughout. Clint was practicing on the range, Peter was in the gym working with some of Stark’s new designs for his suit, Nat was in the gym training with him, and Sam and Steve were somewhere around (maybe the kitchen).

Bucky was in the lounge, sprawled on the couch, watching TV, when he heard someone coming up the elevator. Tony walked in, his presence announced by the light _ding_ of the elevator and the slight smell of motor oil that seemed to follow him whenever he had been in his lab for hours on end. Tony poured himself a cup of coffee in the kitchenette, and he made his way over to the couch, sitting next to Bucky.

Now, Tony had never had the opportunity to really get to know Bucky until recently. They had only ever really been associated with each other through the Avengers, but now they actually interacted with each other outside of their obligatory work interactions. After the whole ‘saving the universe’ thing, they had pretty much set aside their previous hostilities toward one another. They were civil. They talked. They could even be called friends.

So Bucky sat, relaxed on the couch, still sprawled with his head back and his eyes now closed. And Tony, well, Tony was always too nosy for his own good. And Tony saw something in the light of the sun streaming through the window that he had never noticed before, and he was interested.

Tony set his coffee on the table in front of him, and then leaned in to Bucky, squinting at the side of his head, studying very closely the small detail he had noticed there. Bucky, sensing the staring and the close proximity of the man next to him, cracked one eye open and raised that same eyebrow in question.

“Are your ears pierced? When did you get your ears pierced?” Tony asked, staring at the tiny dot on Bucky’s right earlobe.

Bucky broke into a tiny little smile, amused at how interested Tony was in this. “The 80s. I had to blend in.”

“Where exactly were you _blending in_ in the 80s? You’re not exactly subtle,” Tony stated, now arching his own eyebrow to match Bucky’s expression.

“Punks can be surprisingly welcoming,” Bucky said, as if that was a complete answer to the question. A wide grin started to make its way across Tony’s face and Bucky began to have a sneaking suspicion that he had made a big mistake by saying that.

“Oh my god, are there photos? Please tell me there are photos.” Tony asked, an edge of excitement creeping into his voice.

“I’m specially trained Stark. I’m meant to know when I’m being watched, to avoid surveillance.” Bucky said, in lieu of an answer. The thing was, there probably were a few floating around out there, he just didn’t need Stark going on a wild goose chase for them.

“So there are definitely photos,” Tony said, that stupid smile firmly planted on his face now. There was no way Bucky was getting out of this now.

Bucky sighed, “I have no idea Stark. I never took any pictures. Like I said, it was my job not to be seen. But those underground shows were sometimes photographed. So I have no idea if anything exists with me in it.”

“I’m gonna find a photo,” Tony said, and he had the little glint in his eye that promised that he would. He was on a mission now.

“You do that,” Bucky told him as Tony rose from the couch, walking back to the elevator.

And as he watches the doors shut behind Tony, probably taking him back down to the lab, Bucky puts his face in his hands and thinks to himself, _I’m screwed._

* * *

Tony was on a mission. He needed to find these photos. Or photo. Anything. Because no way in hell would Bucky show him anything even if he knew there was something out there. He needed to see photographic evidence of punk Bucky. For science. Or humor. Or something.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” Tony spoke to his A.I.

“Yes boss?” the A.I. replies.

“I need you to run facial recognition on our friend Buck-o Barnes for historical photos from the years 1980 to 1989, special focus on the underground punk scenes that were around in different countries at that time. I don’t know which one he was in. He didn’t say.” 

“Right away boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, beginning to run the software and scans. 

Tony had no idea if this would turn up anything, but it was worth a shot. Maybe.

Or maybe it would be a complete waste of time. But whatever.

* * *

A few days later, and a whole hell of a lot of searching, and F.R.I.D.A.Y. had gone through hundreds of thousands of photos, and turned up exactly nothing. No sign of Bucky anywhere in any photos from the 80s. Not in any sort of regular photos, photos from underground shows, or from rallies or riots. Nothing. But one more day of searching later, and Tony was down in the lab, working on upgrades for his armor, when he was interrupted by an alert from F.R.I.D.A.Y.

“Boss?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. tries to interrupt Tony’s work.

“Kind of busy right now Fri, can it wait?” Tony asks the A.I.

“Well, a photo of Sergeant Barnes has turned up in my search sir,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. informs him.

“ _What?_ ” Tony asks, suddenly interested.

“Sergeant Barnes, you asked me to look for any sign of him, and I think I’ve found him sir. Or at least, someone who looks very much like him, enough to register as him on our facial recognition,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. explains.

Tony, upon hearing this, immediately dropped what he was doing and raced over to the computer. “Show me,” he instructs the A.I.

“Yes boss,” said F.R.I.D.A.Y., pulling up the photo on the screen for Tony to see.

“ _Holy shit,_ ” Tony whispered to himself, because there on the computer screen in front of him is a clear as day picture of a very, _very_ punk James Buchannan Barnes.

“Is it him?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. asked him.

“Oh yeah, that’s _definitely_ our Bucky,” Tony replied.

“What are you going to do with this sir?” 

The smile that breaks out across Tony’s face is just a little devious. “I wonder if anyone else here knows about this?”

* * *

Bucky was currently back in the lounge, Natasha sitting cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through her phone, Steve on the other end of the same couch, laying back with his legs propped up and his ankles crossed, reading a book. Bucky meanwhile was pacing back and forth across the floor, unable to sit still for long enough to do much of anything. It had been that way for the last few days, and Steve was beginning to worry, but didn’t want to push. Nat wasn’t as worried about being gentle.

“James.” He didn’t seem to hear her, so she repeated herself, louder, “ _James!_ ” Bucky stopped pacing and turned to her, his face open and questioning. “Are you okay? You’ve been all over the place for a few days now. What the hell’s the problem?”

Steve was still staring down at his book, but he was no longer reading, also wanting to know if Bucky was okay. He was paying close attention to the conversation in front of him.

“I—um,” Bucky reached to put his arm behind his head, looking nervous. “God, Nat it’s so stupid!”

“If it’s got you this worked up, it’s not stupid,” Natasha tells him simply. 

“No, no it’s pretty stupid, because I did something stupid, and now everyone’s probably gonna see how stupid it was, and judge me for it, and it’s so, so stupid, _God_.” Bucky was rambling. He got like this sometimes when he got really frustrated or upset. Bucky sat down on the coffee table, wrapping his arms around himself, staring at the floor.

Steve was no longer pretending to read his book. He was fully looking at his friend, and hoping he would, somehow, be able to help. He had no idea what was bothering him, but it didn’t matter, he just wanted to fix it.

“Bucky, hey, Buck, whatever you did, it’s okay, you know we don’t judge you for anything that happened. You know that right? I know I told you that but, I just need you to know.” Steve didn’t know if Bucky was talking about something he did as the Soldier, something he was just now remembering, but maybe he was, and this was important, and he needed to be there for him.

Bucky’s eyes lit up with realization as to what Steve was talking about, and how it was _not_ the same thing he himself was talking about. “Oh gosh Steve, no, I...no it don’t got nothin’ to do with that. It’s…well...it’s a different kind of stupid,” Bucky clarified, letting out a half-hearted laugh.

Steve let out a breath. He was relieved that it wasn’t a bad memory that came back, those were the toughest to deal with, but he still had no idea what could possibly be stressing Bucky out this much. “So what’s wrong Buck?” He asked gently.

“The 80s,” Bucky said solemnly, a hint of sarcasm present in his tone.

“The…80s?” Nat replied, a tiny smirk betraying her slight amusement.

“You’re going to have to explain a little more than that Buck,” Steve said, not understanding what Bucky was talking about at all. Sure he had caught up on pop culture, but he didn’t know what could be so distressing to Bucky about the 1980s right now, in this moment.

“Tony may have found out that I was a punk in the 80s.”

“Oh _holy shit_ —” Natasha was full on grinning now.

“But I was under the impression you were always a punk Buck—” Steve was smiling too at this point.

“This _isn’t funny_!” Bucky was looking desperate at this point. “I was undercover for Hydra. I had to blend in. I _had_ to look like that. But you know what? I didn’t hate it. It was one of the only times in that entire hellhole of a life that I actually felt in control of what was happening to myself. Because _I_ got to control what the hell was happening to my body for _once!_ ” Bucky was shouting by the end, he was breathing heavy but he didn’t care. It was the first honest statement he had said about the entire thing since Stark had reminded him about it a few days ago.

“Bucky—”

“Do _not_ say that you’re sorry,” Bucky said, looking up at Steve. “They didn’t make me look like that, _I did_. It was _my choice._ ”

“What’d you look like Buck?” Steve asked him.

“Like a goddamn punk, Stevie,” Bucky said, a tiny smile breaking at the corner of his mouth. “And you know what? I’d do it again, too.”

Steve smiled at Bucky, a small, but genuine smile. On the other side of the lounge the elevator door _dinged_ alerting the arrival of one Tony Stark.

“I’m not interrupting anything am I?” he asked, genuinely worried he had interrupted something important.

“Did you find it?” Bucky asked him instead of answering the question.

“Uh—”

“Stark, I know you’ve been looking for it, you had that look in your eye when you left a few days ago. Did. You. Find. It.” Bucky asked him again, no longer afraid of seeing what Tony would show him.

“Yeah, yeah I found it. Well, one. I found one.” Tony walked over to stand beside the couch, on the side where Nat was sitting. “You were right about it being your job not to be seen. I haven’t been able to find another photo of you anywhere. But this one here Buckeroo, this one says it all.” Tony pointed at the TV screen, and Bucky turned his body to face towards it, Steve and Nat also facing the screen, ready to see whatever the hell Tony and Bucky were talking about. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., please prepare to put the picture you found of Sergeant Barnes on the screen,” Tony instructed his A.I.

“Yes boss,” said the A.I. 

Tony circled around to the front of the couch so he is standing in front of the screen like a presenter. Bucky rolled his eyes at him. Nat raised her eyebrow, suspecting what this is about, but said nothing. Steve was about to open his mouth to begin asking questions when Tony raised his hand in the air to stop him.

Tony gestured to the TV to the side of him and announced to the room, “Lady and gentlemen, I give you, Sergeant Barnes in all his 80s glory.” Immediately the image Tony saw just a short time ago was brought up onto the screen.

“Whoa—”

“Holy shit—”

“Oh yeah, I had a lip ring, huh—”

“Now I know it doesn’t look much like the James Barnes we all know and love—” Tony started.

“Oh no it looks exactly like him,” Nat said, her head slightly tilted to the side, studying the photo in front of her.

“Except for all the, you know,” Steve said, pointing to his face and making a general sweeping gesture.

“Piercings?” Nat asked, looking at Steve now with a smirk.

“Um, yeah. Those,” Steve said weakly, a blush starting to rise to his cheeks that he wanted desperately to hide. Nat saw it. She noticed it. She said nothing. Not yet anyway.

In front of all of them on the huge flat screen TV was a clear, blown up image of a Bucky from another decade, part of a crowd behind a gate at a small venue concert. Bucky’s face was turned part way, but it was definitely him. His head was shaved on the sides, a messy mohawk going down the center. He had multiple piercings in his ear that was visible in the photo, and from what could be seen, his lip and eyebrow were also pierced.

“Anything else you want to tell us?” Nat asked him jokingly, smiling.

“I had a nose ring too, but you can’t see it in the photo,” Bucky said smirking.

“Now you’re just messing with us,” Tony accused him.

“I’m not, I swear,” Bucky was laughing now.

“Got anything else, any mysterious tattoos hidden anywhere we haven’t had the privilege of seeing yet?” Tony joked.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “No Stark, no tattoos. I could take out the piercings and my hair could grow back. Tattoos were permanent, I couldn’t get them,” Bucky said.

Tony understood the implication behind the statement. So did Nat and Steve. They all looked at the photo for a little longer in silence, before Tony broke it, “Well thanks so much for this little walk down memory lane, but I have to get back to actually doing my work.” Tony left, the _ding_ of the elevator following his exit.

Nat, Steve, and Bucky were left staring at the screen after Tony left. Bucky rose to stand after a couple seconds of silence, picking Steve’s feet up off the couch and moving them so he himself could sit between the two other Avengers.

“I gotta say, it’s a strong look for you,” Natasha deadpanned, breaking the overhanging silence.

Bucky broke into a wide grin, “Oh yeah? Strong how?” He said, amused, sitting back to listen to Natasha’s critique of his fashion faux pas.

“Strong like, it’s a statement. You should consider bringing it back. If you want to, that is.” 

“Nat, are you _insane_? I can’t just go walking around like that now. I can’t just go and _do that_ again.” Bucky said, sounding exasperated at the mere suggestion.

“Why not?” Nat asked him.

“Because—”

“Why, Barnes? And don’t you lie to me.” She gives him a pointed look. Bucky turns his head towards her, not really paying attention to Steve on the other side of him. And because he wasn’t paying attention to Steve, he was missing the steadily increasing blush that was appearing on his cheeks at the mere _suggestion_ that Bucky do something like this again.

“Because it’s a ridiculous suggestion and I’ll look ridiculous doing it, _that’s_ why!” Bucky exclaims.

Nat, fully knowing the state Steve was in at this point, having noted the blush on his cheeks and the quiet state he was in upon seeing the picture, turned her sights on the poor supersoldier. “Steve, do you think he’d look ridiculous if he did it again.”

“Oh come on—” Bucky tried to cut her off, scared of hearing Steve’s answer.

“What?” Steve asked her, coming out of a bit of a daze.

“Bucky’s worried he’d look ridiculous if he started dressing like this again. Do you think he would, or do you think he’d be fine?” She asked him.

Bucky was facing Steve now, and Steve dared a glance at Natasha. She gave him a look that said _Don’t bother, I already know._ It came with a devious little smirk. That was an expression that instilled fear in all of the Avengers. Nat was up to something.

 _Oh no. I’m screwed,_ Steve thought to himself. He took a breath, trying to dampen down the blush on his cheeks as he answered honestly, “I think you would look just fine. Do whatever you want Buck, whatever’s gonna make you happy.”

“You really think I’d look okay, Stevie?” Bucky asked again.

“Yeah, I do,” Steve tells him sincerely. And he means it. Bucky would look okay. More than okay, he’d look _stunning_. Just like he did right here in front of Steve. Just like he did up on the picture on the screen. And the thing was, in that photo, Bucky had been on a mission as the Soldier, but all of those things he did to _himself_. And so looking at the screen, it was as if he was looking at the Soldier clawing his way back to Bucky, desperately clinging on to an identity, an individuality that he had known, or one that he had created for himself in the 1980s. Bucky was so, so, strong, and _that_ was what Steve saw when he looked at that picture.

“Okay,” Bucky said, starting to get up from the couch. 

“Just one more thing,” Nat started, turning her question to Bucky. Bucky turned around to answer her. “What color is your hair in that picture exactly. I know they had color photos in the 80s but this one is black and white, and I know your hair is too light in that picture to be what it is naturally.”

Bucky ducked his head, reaching his arm up to brush his now dark brown hair back from his face. “Uh...Red. It was bright red.” Bucky turned to go, leaving Steve and Nat to look at the picture on the TV.

When Bucky had left the room, and Nat was sure he was out of range for his supersoldier hearing, she turned back to Steve. “Something you want to talk about Rogers?” She still had that knowing look on her face that told Steve that if he lied, she would know. Maybe she’d let him get away with it this time, but she’d still know.

Steve sighed. “Not particularly.” He leaned back against the couch, putting his hands to his face and rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes while letting out a groan of frustration. “ _Aagh_.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Nat I’m gonna die. I swear.”

Nat chuckled under her breath. “I thought you didn’t like piercings and hardcore stuff like this. Suddenly you see him like this and you’re blushing redder than a tomato."

“He…just…it’s not like…”

“Use your words Rogers.”

“God, he looks good,” is all Steve manages to say, still staring at the photo on the screen. It finally registers in his brain that Bucky is wearing _eyeliner_ in the image and it is smudged just beautifully around his eyes, and Steve can only think to himself _Jesus Christ, this man is going to be the death of me._

“I mean, you’re not wrong there Rogers. Barnes always had a pretty face, and somehow he pulls this off remarkably well.” 

They sat in amiable silence for a second, then Steve dares to ask her, “Do you really think he’s going to do it?”

“I don’t know, but if he does, do me a favor?”

Steve looked at her, questioning.

“ _Do_ something about it.”

Steve looks down at his lap, sheepish. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh, of course you don’t.” Nat stood up to leave the lounge. Then as she’s leaving, she told him over her shoulder, “Good luck with that thing you have no idea that I’m talking about!” The door closed behind her.

Steve took one last look of the photo before calling up to F.R.I.D.A.Y., “F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Yes, Captain Rogers,” the A.I. answered him.

“Could you please take down the display of the picture of Sergeant Barnes?” Steve asked her.

“Yes, Captain Rogers,” replied F.R.I.D.A.Y., removing the photo and turning off the screen.

“Oh, and can you make it so that the only ones that have access to it are the people who have seen it already, so me, Bucky, Natasha, and Tony.” 

“Of course, Captain Rogers,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. answered him.

“Thank you,” Steve thanked the A.I., before leaving the lounge himself, going to find something to preoccupy himself with to get his mind off one previously punk supersoldier.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky gives himself a haircut. Steve can't help staring across the breakfast table.

Bucky thought about it. He thought about it _a lot_. And the thing was, this wasn’t the first time he had thought about it.

He had thought about cutting his hair before, cutting it short like it was back in the 40s. But whenever he went to go do it, even going so far as to get to the barber shop, he would chicken out, never making it inside.

You see, it felt dishonest to do that. It sounded stupid but he didn’t feel like he deserved to look like _that_ Bucky anymore. _That_ Bucky felt like some far off, distant memory. Sometimes he still felt like _that_ Bucky had died falling from the train that day, and what came back was a different person entirely. And he didn’t just mean the Soldier. He worked hard to get Hydra out of his head and he was damn proud of himself for doing it. But he could never go back to the person he was before it all. He’d never be _that_ Bucky again. And to try to be felt like he was trying to tell himself a beautiful lie.

So he avoided it. Kept his hair long, kept everything about his appearance the same. The only thing he changed about himself was the removal of the red star from his metal arm with one of his upgrades. He no longer had that mark. It made him feel a bit better. 

Bucky was currently making his way through the compound, having just finished up in the gym with Sam from a round of sparring. Nat jogged along the corridor to catch up with him.

“Hey, you look…troubled,” she said, falling into step next to him.

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re doing that thing with your forehead where it gets all scrunched up because you’re thinking too hard,” Nat informs him, slightly amused as Bucky’s forehead becomes more scrunched.

“I am not.”

“Yes you are, you’re doing it right now,” Nat argues with him.

Bucky sighed, “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?” Nat pokes him in the side, urging him on.

“Like _stuff_ , and _things_ ,” Bucky answered vaguely.

“Okay fine, but when you decide you’re ready to talk about it, you know where to find me,” Nat said, breaking away and heading down a side hallway towards her room.

Bucky sighed again. He could just _tell_ Nat what was bothering him. But that would involve discussing everything that has been circling around in his head for years _._ And he just didn’t want to deal with that right now. And he didn’t want to put all that on her.

Bucky got to his room without any more interruptions. He went in and dropped his gym bag on the floor with a loud _thump_. Making his way over to the bathroom, he got ready to go and take a shower, when he got an incredibly, wonderfully, stupid idea.

As he walked by his bathroom sink, he spotted the clippers that he had used to shave that morning, and it made him think of something. _Oh this is either going to go perfect, or horribly, horribly wrong,_ Bucky thought to himself.

He grabbed a comb, taking his hair ties off his wrist and sticking them between his teeth for easy reach. He then began carefully parting his hair on either side of his head, creating three ponytails, one on each side, and a thicker one down the center. He couldn’t help but laugh at himself in the mirror, he looked like a complete idiot right now with three high ponytails sticking out of his head. If anyone were to come in right now, they’d probably question his sanity. 

He opened up the medicine cabinet and rummaged around a little bit until he found a pair of scissors he had stashed in there just in case. He had never used them before. They were for first aid, but he’d never needed to use them for that since moving into the compound. They’d do for what he needed them for right now. He didn’t need to be precise.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky held the ponytail on the right side of his head with his right hand, the scissors held delicately in his metal one. “Well, here goes nothin’,” he murmured to himself. He began to cut into the hair, shearing into it, not caring about perfection but just trying to get off as much as he could. Bucky looked down at the lock of hair gripped in his hand and whispered, “Holy shit,” realizing what he had just done. “Well no turning back now.”

He did the same to the other side, switching which hand was holding the scissors this time. Then, keeping the ponytail in the middle tied tight, he put a short guard on the clippers and turned them on to clean up the mess the scissors had left behind on his head. He worked carefully, but efficiently, having had to give Steve and himself a few at-home haircuts back in the day. It wasn’t his first time trying to cut his own hair. It was the first time he was nervous about it though. The first time anyone else’s opinion actually mattered to him.

When he was done, he brushed the fallen hair off himself, cleaning his bathroom floor and sink of the mess. After disposing of everything, he went back over to the mirror, looking down at the sink for a long while; too scared to look up and face his reflection fully, scared of what he’d see. He inhaled deeply, exhaled, and then looked up, finally seeing the results of his work.

 _I look like me,_ Bucky thought to himself, a smile coming to his face that was big and broad and beautiful. He turned his head, touching his fingers to the short shorn sides of his head, running his fingers through the longer strands down the center. 

He wanted to cry, but he’d feel silly crying over a little haircut. But he felt…

He felt like _himself._

* * *

After taking a shower and getting dressed again, Bucky called Nat on his cellphone.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I may have…done something stupid,” Bucky told her, not able to stop the grin on his face from coming through in his voice.

Nat heard that grin clearly through the other end of the line. “What’d you dooo?” she asked him, already putting a few things in her bag to leave.

“Just come to my room,” Bucky told her.

“Okay, be there in five,” Nat said, and hung up the phone. She was already starting to imagine what dumb thing her friend may have done to warrant such a phone call. 

She got there a little under five minutes later, knocking on the door. “Let me in Barnes!” she called through the door.

“It’s open!” Bucky called back from the other side. He had been lying on his bed, in the dimly lit room, the only light coming from the lowering sun outside. 

Nat opened the door, flicking on the light, “And why is it dark in here when you’re expecting me?” she asked, eyes still not having inspected Bucky fully yet. 

“Because you would have noticed right away, and that’s no fun.” The smile Nat heard on the phone was still in his voice. He was up to something, but he was still fully sprawled out on his back, arms above his head, hair fanning around his face— _wait._

“Barnes…”

“Mmhmm,” he sounded completely, fully pleased with himself.

Nat walked over to him and leaned right over where his head was, looking him fully in the face. And there it was, both sides of his head, shaved down short. A mohawk very similar to the one from the photo, but looser somehow. Just lazy and casual and somehow _him_.

Nat smiled back at him, reaching down to ruffle his still-slightly-damp hair. “You look good Barnes.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said, sitting up now.

“Rogers is gonna love it you know,” Nat murmured to him conspiratorially.

Bucky’s face starts to heat up, and he deflects, “That’s not why I did it, you know.”

“I know. You did it because you wanted to. But Steve’s still gonna love it,” she told him.

“You don’t know that,” Bucky rolled his eyes at her.

“Oh, but I do,” she insisted, reaching over for his hand to give it a reassuring squeeze.

“We’ll see,” he said, not wanting to get his hopes up and run the risk of getting hurt.

“Yes you will.”

* * *

Bucky went to the kitchen early the next morning. He was usually one of the first ones up at the compound, even sometimes beating Steve and Sam with their morning runs. Today though, he could see them out the window, running around the track, Steve lapping Sam every few minutes, them both laughing whenever it happened. Sam had gotten a lot better over time though. He might not have the supersoldier speed that Steve was working with, but the guy could run a good distance, and had a great mile time, that was for damn sure.

After a while of sitting there, drinking his coffee and watching his friends, he saw them end their workout. They’d make their way up to the kitchen soon for their own breakfast. 

Sure enough, after a few minutes of nothing but silence, Bucky heard them coming up the stairs outside, chatting away. He took a breath, his heart picking up a bit in his chest. He was nervous to know what Steve thought.

Sam and Steve came in through the open doorway on the other side of the room. Bucky pretended not to notice, looking down at the mug between his hands, but he was watching Steve out of the corner of his eye, waiting for any sign of a reaction, hoping it wouldn’t be negative.

Upon catching sight of Bucky, Steve almost tripped over his own feet, no longer listening to whatever Sam was telling him. His eyes were firmly fixed on the man at the table, a mug of coffee held between his hands, his hair a disheveled mess like he had just rolled out of bed (and judging by the pajama pants he still wore, he probably _had_ ). But it was different, he had cut it, or rather some of it. _He looks like he did in that picture. No, wait, he looks_ **_better_**. _Shit._

“Steve? Are you even listening to me?” Sam asked him, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I…uh…yeah. I’m listening.” Steve finally tore his eyes away from Bucky long enough to look at Sam, who had his eyebrow raised and his _don’t bullshit me_ expression on his face.

Steve couldn’t keep his eyes focused though, and they strayed back to Bucky. Sam followed his eyeline and finally noticed what had Steve all distracted.

“Hey Freezy Pop, nice ‘do. Lose a bet with Clint?” Sam asked him, interested.

Bucky looked up at Sam, having fully anticipated this type of reaction from his other friends. That didn’t matter. Steve’s opinion was the only one he sincerely cared about.

“Funnily enough I did this to myself of my own free will. He’ll probably think I lost a bet with you once he sees me,” Bucky answered him.

Sam laughed, loud and open, “You’re probably right.”

“Oh, I know I’m right,” Bucky was grinning now.

Speak of the devil, Clint barges into the kitchen like he owns the place, not hesitating to echo Sam’s question almost exactly, “Whoa Popsicle, lose a bet with Sam?” Then he turned to Sam, “That’s harsh man.” But Clint couldn’t exactly keep a straight face as he said it, trying to keep down the smile that was threatening to break out as he was scolding Sam.

“Hey, Birdbrain, it wasn’t me. He chose this,” Sam pointed at Bucky.

“Okay Birdbrain, whatever you say,” Clint held up both his hands in surrender.

“You’re both ridiculous,” Bucky tells them, gesturing at their general vicinity with his coffee mug.

“Says the guy who willingly gave himself an 80s haircut,” Clint accuses him.

Steve almost let out an embarrassing noise from his throat before realizing what was happening and snapping out of his daze. _Oh, Clint, you have no idea,_ he thought to himself. He made his way over to the coffee pot and poured himself some before making his way over to the table and sitting across from Bucky, the sound of Sam and Clint arguing back and forth fading into the background of his thoughts.

Bucky turned away from his conversation with them for a moment to look at Steve, and Steve finally got a really good look at just how good Bucky looked in the morning light coming through the window. _God, he looks_ **_pretty_**.

And Steve had never really thought of any guy looking pretty before. Sure he had thought guys were good looking or handsome. But Bucky was handsome and beautiful and good-looking and just downright _pretty_ and it wasn’t fair. 

Steve swallowed down his nerves and worked up the courage to say barely half of what he really wanted to. “You look real good Buck,” and he smiled at him, because he wanted to reach across the table and kiss him, but he couldn’t, so he smiled at him.

Bucky could feel the blush rising to his cheeks, tried to dampen it down by breathing through it, but he couldn’t. His face was flaming and he knew it, he just hoped Steve couldn’t see it in the rising sunlight coming through the window. “Th-Thanks Stevie,” he stammered out.

They sat at the table in companionable silence, Sam and Clint moving around the kitchen, bantering away, none the wiser as to what their friends were going through at the table by the window.

* * *

“Did he like it?” Nat had shown up to his room later in the afternoon that day.

“I’m not gonna talk about it.”

“Okay don’t talk about it. Just answer the question. Did. He. Like. It.”

“He told me I looked good,” Bucky informed her.

Nat got that little smirk that said he just gave her the information she needed. “Great, so what are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” he told her.

“Nothing,” she repeated him.

“Well, I may be planning something.”

“Mmhmm. Something stupid, I hope,” she encouraged him.

“Oh, the most stupid,” he told her.

“Well, call me if you need me.” She got up to leave, and as she went to close the door behind her, she poked her head back through the door and told him. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” and winked, shutting the door behind her.

“That’s not a very long list of things Nat!” he called at her through the closed door.

* * *

She went to see Steve immediately after that, needing to know exactly what had happened that morning. He was in the lounge, drawing in his sketchbook. _I wonder._

She snuck up behind him as quietly as she possibly could, trying to take a peek at the drawing. Normally she wouldn’t invade Steve's space like this, his notebook is his space and he can draw whatever he likes. It’s none of her business. But this was getting ridiculous. They liked each other. They just had to _tell_ each other they liked each other. 

She crept up behind the couch. Not having taken the elevator meant her arrival on the floor and in the room had been silent, so Steve hadn’t noticed her yet. He was still drawing quietly. She was right behind him, over his shoulder and she could see clear as day a sketch of Bucky from what must have been breakfast that morning, hair a mess, coffee in hand, newly cut mohawk looking fluffy as ever and sticking up all over the place. It was endearing. He looked sleepy and soft and Steve was obviously smitten.

“You want to talk about it?” Natasha said quietly.

Steve closed the notebook quickly, turning his head to face her. “Nat—”

“I already saw it Steve. It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

Steve sighed, reopening the notebook to the page it had been on. Natasha went around the couch to sit next to him.

“Is that from this morning? I mean, I assume it is since he only just chopped it all last night.”

“You knew.” It wasn’t a question.

“He called me after he did it. He wanted to do it. For himself, you know? But he was worried.”

“Worried?”

“People can be cruel,” Nat said.

“Sam and Clint, they said stuff to him this morning. I should have said something. I—”

“Steve. I’m going to say this once. Bucky doesn’t give a rat’s ass about what Sam or Clint or anyone else in this compound thinks of him. He probably doesn’t care about what anyone else in the whole world thinks of him.”

“So why—”

“There is only one other person in this world whose opinion matters to him, and I’ll give you three guesses as to who that person is,” Nat told him, reaching out to put her hand on his leg like an anchor.

Steve wanted to believe it, wanted to believe that his thoughts and opinions mattered to Bucky that much. But he didn’t want to be wrong. He couldn’t let himself believe those things only to be wrong about it. It would break his heart.

“Why’d he call you then?” Steve asked her. He didn’t want to sound like a jealous little kid, but he needed to know.

“Because he was of the opinion that he had done something stupid,” she told him.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I mean would you want your crush seeing you looking stupid?” she said, lightly teasing.

Steve’s heart skipped a bit at the thought of being _Bucky’s crush_. He was a full, grown-ass adult and he still got butterflies over the thought of the person he liked having the same feelings for him like that. “It’s not a crush,” he deflects, muttering, trying to maintain some semblance of control of the situation.

“Oh, it’s most definitely a crush,” Natasha said, continuing to tease. “Don’t worry though, it’s cute.” She got up to leave, but before she did, she told him, “That drawing is great by the way. I bet Bucky would really like it.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky starts getting piercings, which is slowly driving Steve insane. Steve and Bucky keep dancing around each other, which is slowly driving Natasha insane.

The next few days saw much of the same, Steve and Bucky kept dancing around each other, Natasha kept getting increasingly exasperated with how oblivious they were. More and more of the Avengers staying at the compound noticed Bucky’s new haircut. (Some were fans. Others, well, they came up with a whole new list of new and creative nicknames for him, but Bucky didn’t really mind.)

Bucky, however, was getting antsy. He needed to do...something. Something other than the routine of what he normally did at the compound.

He took some time, did some research, and then went to find Natasha. 

She was in the gym, sparring with Peter. She had just pinned him to the mat when Bucky wandered in. 

“Hey Nat, do you got a minute?”

“Yeah, just let me just finish up here.” She stood up, holding her hand out to Peter to pull him up to standing.

“Hi Sergeant Barnes, nice haircut!” Peter greeted him enthusiastically, holding up his hand and giving a little wave. No matter how many times Bucky told the kid to use his first name, he always insisted on the formality. It was cute.

“Thanks kid,” Bucky said, waiting for Nat to finish.

“Peter keep working on your own for a bit, okay?” she instructs him.

“Sure thing,” said Peter, running off farther into the room to the obstacle course.

“So what’s up?” Nat asked him as soon as Peter was out of earshot.

“So…I’m thinking of doing something stupid…” Bucky started.

“Yeah…?” Nat urged him to continue.

“And I need your help,” Bucky told her.

“Oh, this should be good.”

* * *

They drove downtown in relative silence. Bucky was nervous. Nat wouldn’t admit it but she was excited. It had been a long, long time since she had gone to do this with anyone, and she was glad Bucky trusted her enough to bring him.

When they got to the piercing parlor, Bucky almost chickened out entirely, the whole thing freaking him out a bit.

“Hey,” Nat took his hand, “Is this something you want?”

“Yeah,” Bucky was holding her hand back tightly.

“Then I’ll be here. I can go back in the room with you if you want,” she gave his hand a little squeeze.

“Okay,” Bucky conceded, his grip loosening a bit.

“Yeah?” Nat asked.

“Yeah, okay,” Bucky said, reaching over to exit the car. Nat followed, exiting on the other side.

The shop was tiny, out of the way and hidden between some taller buildings that surrounded it. They were still upstate, so it wouldn’t be as much of a media frenzy for them, but after saving the world it was difficult to go anywhere without getting recognized. The last thing Bucky wanted was paparazzi photos because he wanted to get his ear pierced.

“Nat what if someone sees us?” Bucky asked her.

“Don’t worry about that. I called ahead. The shop’s owned by an old friend. You’ll be the only one in there. No one else will know. Not until you show them yourself,” Nat told him.

He turned to her and pulled her into a hug, “Thank you.”

“I know what this means to you, James.”

They broke apart, Bucky finally a bit more relaxed. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Let’s go in then.”

* * *

It was an industrial. A silver bar that sat diagonally across the shell of his ear, piercing it once on each end. He loved it. He had one before, but it wasn’t visible in the image Tony had shown them, that side of his head being turned away from the camera; and no one had ever looked close enough at his left ear to notice the two tiny dots perfectly across from each other on the cartilage of his ear from the long healed over piercings.

But now he had the jewelry in again, and he was thrilled about it. It was shiny and simple and _his_ and no one could tell him to take it out.

Nat’s friend had said it’d take a few weeks to heal and a bit longer than that to stop feeling sore. With his increased healing rate it’d be much quicker than that.

Bucky wondered how long it’d take people to notice it if he didn’t say anything about it at all.

* * *

It took exactly one day for someone to notice, and that person was Peter Parker.

“Whoa, cool, when’d you do that?” Peter asked him when they were in the middle of training. The kid had caught the flash of metal that was a little too high up to be coming from Bucky’s arm, and his eyes were immediately drawn to it.

“Focus, Peter,” Bucky said, trying to stay focused himself on sparring with the kid.

“Sorry,” Peter smiled up at him from the mat before kicking his foot up and around Bucky’s head, pushing Bucky down to the mat, flipping their positions and gaining the upper hand. 

Bucky hissed quietly as Peter’s foot made impact with his ear, hitting the still-healing wound. It was almost there, but it was still sore and a kick from an over-excited teenager wasn’t helping.

“Sorry, sorry, you okay?” Peter asked, getting off of him immediately.

Bucky sat up, touching his ear to make sure it wasn’t bleeding. It was fine though, just stung a lot. “Yeah, I’m good, kid.”

“So the answer to that question is, pretty recently then?” Peter went back to his earlier question.

“Yesterday, actually,” Bucky told him.

“Well now I feel bad for kicking you in the head,” Peter tells him, only sort of joking.

“Don’t, I didn’t tell you beforehand, so it’s my fault. And it’ll be fine. It’s almost healed anyway,” Bucky reassured him.

“Okay. But I have one more question,” Peter said, looking up at Bucky with those big eyes that got him away with just about anything around the compound.

“Yeah kid, and what’s that?”

“Are you gonna get any more?” Peter asked him, pointing to his own ear to clarify what _more_ he was talking about.

Bucky looked down at his lap, smiling a bit to himself. “Maybe kid, maybe.”

* * *

Steve was the next one who noticed it, but Bucky didn’t _know_ Steve was the next one who noticed it. 

Bucky was still in the gym, finishing up with Peter, the both of them sitting on the floor and stretching a bit. Bucky had his hair pulled up into a messy bun that was made even messier by the workout he just had, stray strands of hair falling out of the hair band and into his face and eyes, loose around his neck and at the part in this hair where the long strands changed sharply into short ones.

Steve wandered into the gym, making his way over towards Bucky and Peter when he caught sight of Bucky’s piercing, his ear clearly exposed by his new haircut.

 _Oh god, oh no._ Steve was blushing fiercely. He didn’t even bother continuing to approach the pair, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hold a decent conversation with Bucky, and Peter isn’t clueless. He’d probably see right through Steve the way Nat had. 

Steve tightened his grip on the handle of the bag that was across his shoulder and promptly turned around, walking straight back out of the gym.

After finishing their stretching, Bucky left the space, going to the locker room to shower. Peter watched after him until he was gone. Then, muttering under his breath, he said, “Those two are hopeless.”

* * *

“I’m losing my mind,” Steve barged into Nat’s room without knocking, not caring it the least that Nat could literally kill him if he startled her in her home. Self preservation be damned.

Nat, meanwhile, didn’t move from her position at her table, eyes still trained on the laptop stationed in front of her. “Hello to you too,” she greeted him.

“Did you know about it?” Steve asked her, sitting down in the chair across from her at the small table.

“Know about what?” she asked him, feigning ignorance as to exactly what they were talking about.

“Nat, I swear to god—”

“Yes, I knew about it, Steve,” she answered him, no longer dancing around the information he was looking for. “I’m the one who took him to get it.”

“ _What?_ When?” Steve demanded.

“Yesterday,” Nat informed him.

“And you’re just telling me about it _now_?” Steve is getting visibly frustrated. “I could have used a warning.”

“He didn’t want to tell anyone; wanted to see how long it would take people to notice,” she told him.

“Well I certainly _noticed_! I couldn’t even go and talk to him after I saw it. Do you know how embarrassing that is?”

Nat tried to conceal her laughter behind her hand, “I think you’ve got a bit of a kink, Rogers.”

Steve sputtered, a flaming blush blooming across his cheeks and down his neck, “It’s not—I don’t—He—”

“Uh huh, tell me about it,” Nat nodded, waiting for Steve to finally get the words out.

“It’s not a _kink_!” he finally got out, his face even redder as he said it.

“Are you sure?” Nat asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s just…” Steve trailed off, not knowing where to even go with that statement.

“Him,” Nat finished for him.

“Yeah,” Steve let out a long breath, letting his shoulders drop down, putting his head in his hands.

“Well if it’s this bad now, I should warn you,” Nat started.

“Warn me about what?” Steve urged her to continue, looking up from his hands.

“He’s planning on getting more.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Steve swore under his breath, leaning back and shutting his eyes, trying not to conjure up the mental image of Bucky with all that metal that had seared itself into his brain that day Tony brought it up on the screen in the lounge. “This man is gonna kill me, I swear.”

* * *

Bucky did just as Nat said he would. He kept getting more. He started with his earlobes and kept working his way up. Every few days he had new, tiny metal hoops through both ears, his increased healing speeding up the process considerably for him. By the end of a few weeks he had his industrial in his left ear, four hoops running up each ear starting at his earlobe, and a double cartilage piercing on his right ear.

With every new piece of jewelry Bucky added, Steve felt like he lost a little more of his sanity. He wasn’t fully avoiding Bucky like he did that first day, but he stumbled over himself all the time trying to make conversation and just felt like he was generally making a fool of himself.

It had been a few more days than Bucky’s usual time frame, and he hadn’t gotten any more holes in his ears, and Steve was starting to relax a bit, thinking the whole thing was over. Maybe Bucky had gotten bored of the whole process (he doubted that though), or maybe he was finally running out of space along his ears. Steve didn’t know; but at this point he was thankful for the lull in activity. It gave him a chance to gather himself and actually get used to it.

Currently, Steve was down in Tony’s lab, sitting on a stool and looking over some plans for tweaks Tony wanted to make to the shield design.

“If you let Peter anywhere near the colors Tony I swear—”

“Okay but you gotta admit that the news coverage from that mission was hilarious.”

“ _Tony_ —”

“Alright, aright. I promise I won’t let the kid turn your shield pink this time,” Tony held up his hands in surrender.

“Thank you,” Steve let out an exasperated sigh.

The door to the lab slid open, and Bucky wandered in, “Hey Stark, can you help me with this? I think there’s a short.” Bucky held his metal arm out, his fist gripped at an odd angle.

“Yeah sure, come on over,” Tony hadn’t fully looked up from the plans he was working on yet, but had begun rummaging absentmindedly through one of the drawers where he kept the tiny tools he used to work on Bucky’s arm. 

Steve’s eyes had fixed on Bucky as soon as he walked in the room. He looked comfortable in dark skinny jeans and a plain black t-shirt, hair pulled up into a messy ponytail with some strands falling loose from the tie. The jewelry in his ears were in the same state they were a few days ago, nothing new. But then Bucky turned to face him fully, and Steve could have sworn his heart fully stopped beating for a few seconds. It wasn’t his _ears_ that had new jewelry in them at all.

Bucky had a small little barbell through his right eyebrow, the little ends visible on either side. It framed his eye, made it striking. Made it _pretty._

Tony’s voice snapped him out of his stupor. “Just sit there at the table, I’ll take a look at you.” He pointed at a stool near where Steve was, indicating for Bucky to sit. Next to Steve. _Looking all nice and pretty like that_.

“Sure thing,” Bucky made his way over, sitting down, and looking up at Steve. 

Steve could ignore the piercings before this, when he looked at Bucky like this, talked to him. But now he couldn’t; not when they were quite literally _staring him in the face_.

Steve still refused to call it a kink. It wasn’t a kink. But it was most definitely a _thing_.

“I gotta go,” was all Steve said before rushing out the door.

“Huh,” Tony muttered to himself, having witnessed the entire exchange between the two supersoldiers.

“What?” Bucky asked him, rolling up his sleeve, for Tony to start working on his arm.

“Nothing, nothing at all,” Tony deflected, taking one last glance to the door Steve had rushed through. Then he leaned over and began working on the short in Bucky’s arm.

_Huh._

* * *

Steve had known Bucky had left the compound to go get another one. After the last surprise he had pretty much begged Nat to give him a heads up whenever Bucky was planning anything. He didn’t want to be caught off guard again, especially not in front of other people. So Nat texted him and told him Bucky was planning on going. She didn’t say for what, or what he was planning on getting, just that he was planning on leaving.

Steve called up to the A.I. in the ceiling. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Yes, Captain Rogers?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. answered him.

“I need help with something. Can you alert me when Bucky gets back to the compound?” Steve asked her.

“Of course sir,” the A.I. replied.

“Thanks,” Steve said.

He went off to do something, anything to keep his mind occupied. He tried watching TV, reading, drawing, anything, but he was too distracted to do much of anything. A couple hours passed before he got the alert from F.R.I.D.A.Y. while he was in his room.

“Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes has arrived back at the compound, sir,” she informed him.

“Thank you F.R.I.D.A.Y.” he said to the A.I.

He waited, for a long while he waited, because Bucky always showed Natasha first. Then he texted her.

**Steve:** _What did he get?_

 **Nat:** _Go see for yourself_

 **Steve:** _I can’t_

 **Nat:** _Yes you can_

 **Steve:** _Nat please_

There was a long pause between the text he sent and the reply. 

**Nat:** _sent a photo_

Steve held his breath as he clicked to open it. There was Bucky, overjoyed and smiling and happy, his hair flopping into his face and his eyes scrunched up in laughter. Steve could see the bar through his eyebrow from a few days ago that had healed. But he now had added a thin, tiny silver hoop through his right nostril.

**Nat:** _Does that answer your question?_

Steve didn’t reply. Couldn’t reply. Couldn’t do anything. He looked down at the picture again. Bucky was just so happy, so beautiful with that smile. Bucky had always been beautiful, but now he looked like he felt comfortable in his skin, like he glowed from the inside, and Steve just wanted to wrap him in his arms and hold him tight. But he couldn’t. And it broke his heart.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve starts avoiding Bucky all together out of fear of making a fool of himself. Bucky starts doubting himself, until Nat encourages him, and then Bucky ups the ante. Natasha finally pushes the boys together to sort themselves out.
> 
> And maybe, just maybe, Bucky did something that makes Steve finally snap.

Steve spent the next few days avoiding Bucky at all cost, he couldn’t face him, afraid of what he might say if he did. Bucky, meanwhile, was starting to get worried.

He found Nat in the kitchen one afternoon, sitting at the table, and he plopped down heavily in a chair next to her. “Have you seen Steve?”

Nat looked up at him from the book she had been reading. Placing it face down on the table. “No I haven’t, why?”

“Well have you talked to him at all?”

“I texted him a few days ago, haven’t heard from him since then,” she told him.

Bucky’s eyes flashed with concern, “He’s been acting strange, and now I can’t find him anywhere. I haven’t heard from him. I’m starting to get worried.”

“I’m sure he’s around. I’ll tell him you’re looking for him if I see him,” she told Bucky gently.

“Okay,” he lets out a breath.

“Are you still planning on going today?” she asked him, changing the subject.

“I don’t know if I should,” Bucky looks down at his hands wringing them together on top of the table.

“Why not?” she asked him.

“Because, Steve started acting weird as soon as I started all of this,” Bucky said, gesturing to his face, “and now I haven’t seen him for days. Either something happened or he’s avoiding me, and either way I don’t want to make it worse by going and doing something stupid _again_.” Bucky put his head in his hands, letting out a heavy sigh.

“Do you want my advice?” Nat asked him.

“Yes please,” Bucky said, voice muffled by his hands.

“I’ll find Rogers, you go do your thing. It’s important to you, so you should go,” Nat told him.

“But what if he doesn’t like it,” Bucky asked her, lowering his hands away from his face, his eyes betraying his insecurity.

“I don’t think him not liking it is why he’d be avoiding you. _If_ that’s even what he’s doing.”

“But—”

“No buts. _Go_!” she urged him, standing up and then pulling him up out of his seat.

“Okay okay I’m going. But if he really does hate this one I’m blaming you!” he calls over his shoulder as he leaves the room.

“Deal,” Nat tells him with a smile on her face.

* * *

After an hour of looking, Nat finally found Steve in Peter’s lab of all places. 

“Rogers, I’m gonna kill you,” Nat’s face was stormy.

“Whoa, hey, whoa! Whatever you gotta do, take it outside please and thank you!” Peter shouted from across the room.

“What did _I_ do?” Steve asked, his hands held up in front of him.

“I sent you that picture as a heads up, not as a reason to avoid the issue entirely,” Nat was mad. Steve had fucked up, he just didn’t know how yet.

“Okay, um. Yeah okay, let’s go talk,” He went to leave, then called over his shoulder, "Peter, I’ll be back in a bit?”

“Sure thing!” Peter replied, watching him leave. Natasha looked at Peter, Peter looked back at Natasha. He wanted to ask, he really wanted to ask if she saw it too, the thing between Steve and Bucky, but he didn’t want to out anything if no one else knew. He shuffled around on his feet for a second, opening his mouth to say something before Nat cut him off.

“So you see it too?” she asked him.

Peter let out a relieved little laugh, “Yeah, yeah I see it too.”

“You know I’ve been trying to make this thing happen for weeks?” Nat asked him.

“They’re _hopeless_ ,” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Oh believe me, I know,” Nat let out a little smile before turning to leave.

“Good luck on Mission Impossible!” Peter yelled after her, waving.

“Thanks Peter.” Nat let the door to the lab close behind her, finding Steve a little down the hall, waiting for her. “Let’s go,” she said to him.

“Nat, I can explain,” Steve started.

“You better.” They walked quietly through the halls until they reached Nat’s room, closing the door behind them. “Talk, Rogers.” Nat said. Sitting on the bed.

Steve paced back and forth for a few moments, not knowing where to start; not knowing what to say or how to say it.

He tilts his head back at the ceiling, stopping his pacing and letting out a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. “Okay so maybe it’s a thing.”

“ _What’s_ a thing?” Nat asked him.

“You know the…” Steve trailed off, pointing vaguely at his own face in reference to Bucky’s recent change in appearance. 

Nat relaxed, smirking at him, “Oh, you mean your kink?”

“It’s not a kink!” Steve ran his hand through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh and coming to sit down next to Nat. “It’s not a kink, but it’s probably a _thing_.”

“A _thing_?” Nat questioned him.

“Yeah,” was all Steve said in reply.

“Well whatever you want to call it, what the hell are you going to do about it? Bucky thinks you’re avoiding him,” Nat informs him.

Steve ducked his head, looking sheepish. “I kind of am,” he confessed.

Nat smacked him lightly on the shoulder.

“Hey!”

“Why the hell are you avoiding him!” Natasha half shouts at him.

Steve lets out a long dramatic groan, “Because when I see him I can’t talk to him anymore, because I get distracted by his stupid pretty face and I used to be able to deal with it because It was just his face you know? I knew that face. I grew up knowing that face. But then Tony showed us that picture and Bucky started to do all this new stuff and now he looks like he’s so much more confident in who he is and every time I see him all I can think about is wanting to kiss him!” Steve rambled. A blush made its way across his face as he realized what he had just let slip, how he had just basically confessed everything to Natasha. 

Nat was full on grinning at him at this point.

Steve stood quickly off the bed. “I…uh…I gotta go.” He said, rushing toward the door.

“Steve wait!” Natasha stood in front of the door for a second, “Did you ever think for a second, that Bucky would _want_ you to kiss him?”

Steve pushed past her, shaking his head, not letting that thought form in his head, not willing to give himself hope. 

After the door shut and Steve left, Nat felt like banging her head against the hard wood. She texted Peter.

**Nat:** _I can’t keep doing this_

 **Peter:** _???_

 **Nat:** _Steve and Bucky_

 **Peter:** _Are they still hopeless??_

 **Nat:** _I literally told Steve that Bucky would want him to kiss him_

 **Peter:** _And???_

 **Nat:** _And nothing. He didn’t believe me_

 **Peter:** _Oh No_

 **Peter:** _OH NOOOO_

 **Nat:** _It’s BAD Peter_

 **Peter:** _oh my GOD Nat! How???_

 **Nat:** _I have no idea_

* * *

Bucky got back to the compound late that night. He didn’t want to go back, but he had nowhere else to be. His phone rang as he walked through the entrance, Nat on the other end of the line.

“Hey I was just coming up to see you,” he greeted her.

“Don’t be mad,” she said, in her own way of greeting.

“Okay…” Bucky didn’t know where this was going.

“Do you trust me?” Nat asked him.

“Not when you start off our conversation with ‘Don’t be mad,’” Bucky joked, making his way up the stairs towards Nat’s room.

“Don’t come to my room,” Nat told him.

“Why not?” Bucky frowned, pausing in the middle of the hallway.

Nat sighed through the phone, “I’ve been warning Steve about your last few piercings, giving him a heads up before he saw them.”

“Why—”

“He asked me to. Listen, I know you’re probably mad, and you’re about to be more mad, so let me finish. That picture I took of you, the night you got your nose ring, I sent it to him.”

Bucky was fuming. “Natasha _why would you_ —”

“Because I didn’t know he was going to avoid you because of the information!” Natasha bit back.

Bucky sighed “So what the hell am I supposed to do now?”

“He has a thing for them.”

“ _What?_ ” Bucky was completely lost now.

“The piercings, and the hair. I don’t know what it is but he gets totally flustered. It’s why he’s been avoiding you. I owe you that since I fucked up so bad.”

“Are you serious? If you’re lying Nat I swear to god—”

“I’m not. If you want my advice, send him a photo showing off whatever the hell it is you did tonight. It will be from you this time. Not me.”

Bucky had made it to his room at this point. “Are you absolutely sure?” he asked her.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she said.

“If this comes back to bite me in the ass, I’m coming after you,” he told her.

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” she said, hanging up the phone.

* * *

A short time later, Steve’s phone vibrated on his bedside table. He picked it up, opening the message.

**Bucky:** _sent a photo_

Steve’s heart rate picked up. Bucky had left the compound today. Bucky probably went and got another piercing. Bucky was sending him a picture. _Oh no_ , Steve thought to himself, he knew exactly what was on the other side of the message, knew what a temptation it was. He could just shut off the phone, go to sleep without opening the image. But he’d see Bucky around the compound whether he wanted to or not, so better to know what he was going to be seeing around, right?

Steve typed in his password and opened the message. _Oh fuck me._

There on the left side of Bucky’s lip was a shiny silver ring. Bucky was smiling in the picture, but he was tugging on the ring with his teeth, the ring pulling on the flesh of his lower lip.

This was not the sort of picture friends send to each other, and Steve knew it. But maybe it was meant for someone else, maybe it was an accident, maybe it wasn’t meant to be read as a flirtation.

Steve tried to calm down his instant reaction to the picture. The blush he had was all the way down to his chest. His pants may have been a bit tighter than they had been earlier, but he’d deny it if he was asked. He went to go take a cold shower without replying to the message.

He may or may not have made the picture the background on his phone. He’d never tell.

* * *

The next few days were downright torture for Steve. Everywhere he went, Bucky seemed to be there, twirling a strand of his messy mohawk or playing with one of the rings in his ears or chewing on the ring on his lip, tugging it between his teeth. It was like he was purposely being a tease and it _wasn’t fair._

Nat saw what Bucky was doing and was mildly impressed. She came up behind him while he was sitting on the couch in the lounge and whispered in his ear, “That’s evil Barnes.”

“I’m desperate,” he whispered back.

“You don’t say,” she feigned surprise, turning to leave the room. As she walked through the attached kitchenette, she passed Steve who had been staring at Bucky for the last half hour. As she passed she smacked him lightly on the back of his head. “You’re an idiot!” she hissed at him under her breath.

“I am not,” Steve whispered back.

“He’s flirting with you,” Nat rolled her eyes before leaving Steve to his staring.

* * *

Bucky left the compound one time after that, but he didn’t come back with anything new so Steve brushed it off, thinking maybe he had gone to do something else offsite. He didn’t get any pictures that night, and Bucky looked very much the same in the following days, so there didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary.

Steve continued to avoid Bucky until he couldn’t anymore. They got called into a full team practice in the gym.

“I know there hasn’t been a world ending catastrophe in a few months but we need to stay ready for them,” Nat said, “Some of us are used to training together, others not so much. Some of you,” she looks pointedly at Steve and Bucky “haven’t trained together in a while and could use the practice.”

 _Shit,_ Steve thinks to himself.

“Barton, Wilson, Parker, you’ll start outside on the track, Stark, you’ll be with me on the shooting range.” Nat turns to Bucky and Steve after the others begin to move out, “You two will start in here, with sparring.”

 _Fuck,_ Steve swore to himself again.

Outside the gym doors, Tony turned to Natasha and asked, “So, are we actually going to the shooting range?”

She laughed, turning to leave and pulling him along behind her.

“No I’m serious. Like, I’m fully here for this plan of yours, but I have stuff to do!”

Back inside the gym Bucky was stretching out his arms, the plates of his metal one shifting softly in the silence. 

“Come on Steve, we don’t want Nat to get mad if we don’t actually spar do we?” he asked. It was the first thing he had said to Steve directly since Steve had started avoiding him.

“No…uh…I guess not,” Steve replied, stretching his own arms, and trying his best to ignore the way Bucky was moving around the space.

Bucky pulled a hair tie off his wrist with his teeth, leaned forward, and hung his head so he could brush his mohawk up into a messy bun at the top of his head. 

Steve gulped.

Bucky flipped his head back up, smiled and asked, “You ready?”

“Uh…yeah.”

They sparred for a few rounds, Bucky pinning Steve to the mat each time because Steve was too distracted to do his usual best. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t do much of anything with Bucky looking sweaty and triumphant and _beautiful_ above him.

Bucky had pinned him to the mat one more time, sitting over his hips, when he asked Steve “Are you okay? You seem like you’re distracted today.” Bucky then pulled his t-shirt up, wiping the sweat off his face, and Steve caught a glimpse of something metal shining on either side of his chest.

_Oh no fucking way._

Steve lost it. He absolutely lost it. His last shred of sanity flew out the window when he caught sight of those two little barbells through Bucky’s chest. The little shit had gone and gotten his _nipples_ pierced. That’s where he went the other night and that’s why he hadn’t looked any different when he got back, because they were hidden under his shirt _the whole time_.

Steve grabbed onto Bucky’s hips for leverage and flipped them over, now leaning his own body over the other man. “You…I…” He tried to come up with what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. What did come out sounded so much like a whine it was embarrassing, “ _Bucky…_ ”

“Yeah Stevie?” Bucky asked, pulling that stupid lip ring up between his teeth again, pulling on it a bit.

“Do you…can I…” he looked at Bucky’s lips, wanting to kiss him, wanting to tell him all the dumb things he had rambled to Natasha a few nights ago that he just couldn’t hold in anymore.

“Steve,” Bucky broke him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

It was like everything he had been feeling for the past few weeks broke out of him all at once. Steve leaned down, sealing their mouths together in a kiss that was heavy and heated and long, long overdue. As their mouths slid together, Steve could feel the warm metal of the ring slide against his own mouth. Steve lightly dragged his teeth against Bucky’s lower lip as he pulled away, catching on the ring, pulling on it like he’s wanted to do since Bucky texted him that picture, like he’s wanted to do since he first saw the picture of Bucky in the 80s. As Steve tugged the ring it made Bucky gasp and arch his neck.

Steve moved to his neck, biting dark marks there that were sure to last for a little while before Bucky’s healing factor kicked it and made them disappear.

“Do you have any idea how stubborn you are?” Bucky gasped out, his hands tangled into Steve’s hair.

Steve continued his biting path, “What do you mean?” he asked, the question muffled into Bucky’s neck.

“I’ve been trying to get you to make a move for _weeks_ ,” Bucky informed him.

“Are you serious?” Steve asked him, finally sitting back a bit, looking up a Bucky’s face. He had a beautiful pink flush high across his cheeks, and Steve wanted it to _stay there_.

Bucky sat up with him, putting his hands on Steve’s hips instead. “Yeah, I mean, not with the piercings or the hair or anything like that. I mean, I wanted to do all of that for me. Because _I_ like this stuff you know? But then someone may have let slip that you may have been into it, and I may have been flirting with you.” Bucky ducked his head, his blush burned brighter, now spreading farther down to his neck. _Pretty_.

“You’re a goddamn tease Buck,” Steve said, letting a smile break out across his face, leaning in and placing a gentle kiss to Bucky’s lips just because he could now.

“You liked it,” Bucky smiled back at him.

“Shut up,” Steve was blushing now. He paused for a second then sighed, “Nat’s gonna kill me.”

“Why’s that?” Bucky asked him.

“Because she told me weeks ago that I should go for it, has been telling me all along, and I didn’t believe her,” Steve told him.

“Oh no, Steve,” Bucky started laughing.

“What?”

“She’s gonna kill us _both._ Steve!” Bucky was laughing _hard._

“Bucky, _what_?” Steve asked him again.

“Steve, Stevie,” Bucky was holding onto him now, trying to stop himself from laughing, “I was going to Nat too. We were _both_ going to Nat. She was telling us _both_ to stop being stupid because she knew we liked each other but she couldn’t tell us because she didn’t want to break our trust. STEVE!”

“Oh no. She’s gonna kill us,” Steve looked at him with wide eyes

“Steve, we’re gonna die tonight.” Bucky looked at him with the biggest grin in the world. One that could light up the night sky.

* * *

Nat got a text a short time later.

**Steve:** _sent a photo_

Steve and Bucky were in the gym, their arms around each other, and Steve was pressing a kiss to Bucky’s cheek, Bucky smiling wide and happy.

And underneath the photo was a text: _We’re sorry we’re idiots, please don’t kill us._

Nat smiled to herself, glad her two friends were finally going to get a bit of happiness together.

She sent off a quick text to Peter.

**Nat:** _Mission accomplished._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading everyone! Like I said this is my first fanfiction I've ever posted before, so I'm a bit nervous about it. I appreciate any comments and kudos, but just knowing people can read my writing is super exciting, and I'm looking forward to maybe writing more fanfics in the future.


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